If My Heart Was A House
by FloatingBallofLight
Summary: <html><head></head>Ron looks back at his past experiences with Hermione in order to build up courage for the next step in his and Hermione's relationship. T to be safe. R & R, guys!</html>


If My Heart Was a House, You'd Be Home by FloatingBallofLight

Disclaimer: Maybe on my birthday I'll wake up and the rights to HP will be in the corner next to the bathroom and my room! But probably not.

A/N: I got the idea for this while watching a youtube video about R/Hr titled If My 3 Was A House by Dazzleme7. The song is by Owl City (whom I love. Sorry. I don't know how I got addicted, I guess it was somewhere between the protests and hatred towards him. Like R/HR!) Anywho, I suppose my plan is to write about all of the in-between parts of Ron and Hermy's life together that they didn't mention in the books. This one's about when Ron and Hermione move out of the Burrow. Hope you like it! BTW! This is indeed a songfic, so if you don't like them, turn back now! Oh, and one more thing, actually. This is dedicated to Cody545. He's like my BEST friend and I love him to death. So, if you're reading this, D.J., don't take anyone's crap because the people who mind don't matter and the people who matter don't mind! : ) I love you, dude.

_You're the sky that I fell through, and I remember the view whenever I'm holding you. The sun hung from a string, looking down on the world as it warms over everything._

You can still remember the first time you ever saw her; you HATED her. With fever, passion, and sincerity. You can't exactly pinpoint the exact time that you stopped, but it wasn't exactly in three weeks' time.

Sometimes you wondered how such a bratty little know-it-all could've ever gotten more attention than you. Some may call it jealousy, but you would've rather been unrecognizable and be a normal bloke than be infamous for quick tongue, vanity, and outright annoyingness.

Nevertheless, that hatred did eventually die away, and in its place was put a strong friendship. You would've called it inseparable, but sometimes your various rows would come in between all of that.

Then in third year, that was the worst. Oficially being a teenager meant more responsibility and freedom to others, but to you, it just meant getting a year older and getting more easily aggrivated. Over nothing, such as a rat, for instance.

Granted, you didn't know it at the time, but Scabbers was actually a creepy bald guy with no apparent life who basically killed Harry's parents and occasionally slept in your bed.

The thought still gets you sometimes; makes you involuntarily shudder.

Well, eventually things worked themselves out, and back were you on the course of friendship.

That is, until fourteen came along. That was a rough year for you. Besides going through some…err…mature changes, you had something to egg you on. Or someone, rather. You didn't admit it to yourself fully. It was like in those sappy books Hermione reads; part of you knew without doubt, the other half was being incurably stubborn and ignorant.

The whole Yule Ball ordeal, yeah, that was a little awkward. The most beautiful girl in the world was all dolled up and she was screaming at you and you were making her cry. You hated yourself for that. There was always the fact, thought, that it was you whom had made her cry in the first place.

And Hermione doesn't just cry. She has reasons.

You'd like to think it was that factor that had given a slight push to your stubborn side rather than Hermione actually stating that she would've liked to come with you and you should've genuinely asked her. Regrettably, it was her words more than her tears that acted as the light bulb for you on that one.

You both were rather distant after that.

Fifth year came along, and you tried your best to be caring and mature, at least more so than the previous year. It seemed to have worked, and you two hardly bickered at all. That was sort of a bridge year.

You still feel uncomfortable talking about sixth year, so we won't linger on that much. All you knew is Lavender fancied you, Hermione kissed Viktor, and you needed to step up your game. So you plunged.

And you almost drowned.

But, there she was holding your hand, (of course you wouldn't admit that you were really awake by that time, you'd look like a git) and soon Lavender was out of the picture, thank God, and you were back to smoothing through the ocean on the steady ship that was your relationship.

_Chills run down my spine as our finger entwine and your sighs harmonize with mine._

There was the wedding, and you danced, and when she appeared, that's when you knew. Your stubborn side was caught up with your DUH! side.

_Unmistakably, I can still feel your heart beat fast when you dance with me._

On the run, on the run, on the run. That's all you can say. Nothing much happened except a few heartwarming piano lessons, some handholding and gentle gazes, and you even got to teach her how to skim stones! This was brilliant for you, knowing something Hermione didn't.

It was all building up to something big.

And it was gone.

Just like that.

You left her. Out of jealousy and fear that if you stayed things between Harry and Hermione would only grow, and you weren't about to stay and watch as your best mate stole your one-and-only away from you. Your whole life drained of color. Her smile was burned into your mind, and you kept looking for answers, ways to go back. But there seemed to be a 'No U-Turn' sign on this road. It was cold, and you didn't have a blanket.

_We got older, and I should've known. (Do you feel alive?) I would feel colder when I walk alone. (Oh, but you'll survive.)So I may as well ditch my dismay. Bombs away, bombs away._

And you came back, she cried all over you and you snogged for a bit, then ran off to shag a few times. Ha!

Yeah, you wish.

These things took time. Cold shoulders, icy glares, they were all like shards of glass making their way to your heart.

You've never really had a thing for glass.

Somewhere deep inside, though, you knew it wouldn't last. You knew it would get better.

And when she was done hating your guts, you'd be there, ready to reconcile. Because she was your other half and you had to be ready. You wanted to.

_Circle me and the needle moves grac_e_fully back and forth. If my heart was a compass, you'd be north. Risk it all, cause I'll catch you if you fall. Wherever you go, if my heart was a house you'd be home._

And then she kissed you, and in that kiss was an unspoken promise. You didn't need to talk it through after the battle, you just knew. You were together, and you weren't going to waste anymore time. You weren't going to rush, but you were going to do everything you wanted to, needed to.

You told Hermione this epiphany, and she whole-heartedly agreed. In fact, that little conversation earned you quite the snog.

She took to sleeping in your bed with you, it helped her nightmares. You learned what her favorite things were and what to do that made her feel treasured; let her know that she was.

When she was curled up in the chair by the fire reading Hogwarts, A History for the umpteenth time, you'd sneak up behind her, massage her back, and kiss her on the head.

When she had her knickers in a twist, you'd always argue, but only because once she mentioned she liked rowing with him. Often times, if you were getting really into it, you'd both pounce on each other and song for hours.

When you ate lunch together, you held her hand under the table and occasionally rested your hand on her thigh. That always did the trick.

Sometimes, after a game of Quidditch with Harry and Ginny, (not really a game, it was uneven because Hermione fell one too many times, and you weren't about to let that happen again) you'd find her absentmindedly swinging on the hanging tire or sitting thinking on the rusty white bench. It tore you up to interrupt because those were the only times she truly seemed at peace and she looked beautiful.

And it was on that Saturday, that you interrupted for the last time.

You knew she was leaving. You had discussed this before. She wanted to travel to Australia, which wasn't bad because she wanted you to come along and sharing a hotel room for a week couldn't be too bad, but after that, the summer holiday was over, and she would be returning to Hogwarts to make up her final year. Term was almost 11 months; could you really last that long?

Of course, there were always Hogsmeade weekends, and Hermione being Head Girl (which she most likely would be without a doubt) would allow her to patrol farther off the grounds.

Even so, that wasn't very often for two people who could hardly stand to breathe without each other.

_It makes me smile cause you said it best. I would clearly feel blessed if the sun rose up from the west. _

She knew this too, and when she saw you walking over, there was an understanding there. She silently stood up and followed you back up to your room.

Somewhere along the hallway up the stairs, you began to cry. Not just over her leaving, but everything that had happened within the last few months.

She held your hand and nuzzled into your chest. She would've normally been crying as well, but you supposed she was all out of tears.

You felt more than heard her whisper, "hey. Look at me"

You did. And it got you into a lot of trouble.

She stood on tiptoes and kissed you. It was slower than usual, but no less passionate.

You ran your fingers through her hair. That earned you a moan.

You kept kissing as you led her into your room for the last time….

~(}{)~

The last day she was with you, she had already reversed the spell on her parents.

They were quite put out that they hadn't seen her for a while and she was starting term tomorrow, but they took it as a valid excuse.

And she knew they would.

Once you had arrived back in Surrey, you didn't have but a few hours before Hermione left for Hogwarts (the Australian hours messed you up).

And so, without any sleep, the four of you bade everyone goodbye and set off (much to the dismay of Harry and Ginny, but you insisted it be just you and her parents).

Once you arrived at King's Cross, Hermione's parents parked and you escorted her inside.

It was about 15 minutes of nothing but sitting there at the station awkwardly with nothing to talk about.

Her parents came back, and said their goodbyes before you two went through the barrier and onto the platform. (A/N: I'm not actually sure if this is compatible with the books/movies, but here, muggles can't go through the barrier).

The train was about to leave; it was 10:45.

You helped her get her things on the train, and for a moment, you just stood gazing lovingly at each other.

You gave her a sad half-smile, and at once she started sobbing and cried into your shoulder.

Thank Merlin you two were actually together, for now you could do a bit more than pat her on the head.

Stroking her hair, you lifted up her chin with your finger (she loves it when you do that) and kissed her chaste fully. You broke apart and wiped away her tears with your thumb.

"It won't be long, love. You'll see. I'll write you every day and visit you on all the Hogsmeade weekends, and I'll see you on the holidays…"

She cut you off with another kiss, not so sweet this time, more of hungry than anything else.

"I know, Ron."

You weren't convinced.

You were about to ask her then, if she would like it, but the whistle sounded, and she jumped on board with a slight wave and a watery smile.

You watched her find a compartment with a small, red-headed first-year boy who looked very frightened in deed. You aren't sure, but her lips moved as if she were saying, "First time? It's not bad. Everything will be okay. Trust me."

And without further ado, he leaped up and hugged her.

She looked taken aback, but she placed the boy on her lap and rocked him back and forth.

She told you when she returned that the boy was an orphan.

She pushed the window down, and mouthed, "I love you, Ron."

You mouthed back, "I love you more, Hermione."

And as the train pulled away, a piece of paper flew out of her window.

You picked it up, smiled, and put it in your pocket.

~(}{)~

The days without her dragged on.

All you really remember is sleeping with an old shirt every night.

She used to wear it sometimes, and the fact that it was yours made your heart beat uncontrollably.

_Flower Balm perfume; all my clothes smell like you cuz your favorite shade is navy blue._

_I walk slowly when I'm alone. (Do you feel alive?) Yeah, but frankly, I still feel alone. (Oh, but you'll survive. So I may as well ditch my dismay, bombs away. Bombs away._

Picking her up at the train station was like getting a puppy. Only better. Much, much better.

Her parents were on vacation, so it was just you.

As soon as she got off that train, her eyes met yours. The biggest grin you've ever seen spread across her face, and disregarding all of the people in your way, you ran to her as fast as your legs would carry you.

When you reached her, you lifted her up and spun her around who knows how many times, and kissed her.

It felt like ages since you had kissed her, let alone like that.

But then again, it had been ages, hadn't it?

You flew her home on your Clean Sweep (you still couldn't drive and hadn't sorted out all the kinks in apparating).

She hugged everyone when you arrived at the Burrow, but soon after, you nodded towards the stairs and took off with her suitcase.

She must've gotten the hint because she escaped and joined you in your room and didn't leave until two mornings after.

_Circle me and the needle moves gracefully back and forth. If my heart was a compass you'd be north._

It was that Saturday that you led her to the door blindfolded.

"Ron, what is going on?"

"Just a little surprise Hermione. I meant to tell you before you left, but there was no time."

You kept walking until you were in the middle of the living room.

"Okay. You can take the blindfold off now."

She did.

You were standing behind her, and therefore couldn't see her immediate reaction.

She spun around to face you and you thought she very well might've hexed certain parts of your body off that you might need one day.

Instead she giggled and leapt into your arms.

"Ron! You bought us our very own house?"

"Yeah. I figured we needed to get away from all the chaos of the Burrow."

"Oh, babe, it's wonderful! You're amazing! Ugh, I love you!"

"I love you too."

And that's it really. Out of all the things you'd imagined yourself doing with Hermione when you were eleven, none of them were living together.

You certainly weren't complaining now though.

She was curled up in her favorite chair by the fire, and you're rubbing her back.

"Hermione?"

"Hmmm?"

"There is no stubborn side anymore. Just so you know."

And even though she likely had no idea what you were talking about, she kissed you and mumbled, "of course there isn't, dear."

_Risk it all, cuz I'll catch you if you fall. Wherever you go, if my heart was a house, you'd be home._

And now you're away on an Auror mission, and you take out that piece of paper form the train, and read it over for the 1,899,746th time.

Ron,

I know it's a long time, but I want you to know. We're never far apart. Do you know why? Because…

_If my heart was a house, you'd be home._

Love always,

Hermione

El Fin!


End file.
